


Exam

by Anonymous



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Medical Procedures, Meet-Cute, Nonbinary Character, Other, kind of, mentions of trypanophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Purple has been avoiding their mandatory physical for over two weeks, and Brown doesn’t care why; he just wants to get it over with and get on with both of their lives.
Relationships: Brown/Purple (Among Us), Crewmate/Impostor (Among Us)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 180
Collections: Anonymous





	Exam

The first time Brown gets a good look at Purple’s face, his heart stutters.

It’s the fifteenth day of the expedition. Usually, the whole crew would have submitted to physical exams by now—so he’d have some kind of metric to measure by should any of them get sick or injured.

The operative word here is “usually.”

Purple, contrary bastard that they‘re proving to be, has been steadfastly avoiding it—and by extension, avoiding him. It seems like whenever they see the white medic cross on his uniform, they turn tail and disappear around a corner, or bury themself among the wires in electrical and claim to be busy, or sequester themself off in the engines to fix some problem that just conveniently crops up the second Brown catches a whiff of them in the corridor. (Although Brown can’t claim expertise in that area of the ship’s functions—he is the medic, after all, so aside from the training all astronauts go through he’s not as well-versed in engineering as Purple and Lime—he’s fairly sure that if engine problems are truly occurring as often as Purple claims they are, Command would have sent a team up to properly replace the machine in the first week of their journey on the Skeld.)

Today, he only got his hands on Purple at all because he drunkenly vented his frustrations about the whole game of cat-and-mouse to the captain last night. White had been drinking too, of course, but apparently not enough to forget the pissy tirade. Some might call it embarrassing. Brown would call it effective, if Purple’s sheepish body language and reluctant presence in his medbay are anything to go by. He almost wishes he’d been there for whatever stern tongue-lashing Purple must have gotten, but he squashes that feeling down. Pettiness isn’t something a doctor should feel, not even towards the crewmate who’s been making themself a nuisance to Brown’s peace of mind.

“Alright!” Brown finishes pulling up his digital checklist and turns away from the terminal with a clap of his hands that seems to startle Purple from their cot. Ignoring their instinctive jump at the noise—honestly, it wasn’t even that loud—Brown crosses the room to his printer and snatches a clipboard from the wall while he waits for the checkup forms to print. “Now, what we’re going to do today is just a standard physical. I have your records from planetside, but we need to establish parameters for how your body adjusts to space before I can reasonably treat anything you might come down with in the next few months—“

“You—“ Purple interrupts, then gulps. “You aren’t going to ask why I’ve been avoiding you?”

Brown fixes them with a look. “I’m a medic, Purple, not your therapist. Unless you were avoiding me because of a medical issue you don’t want me to know about, I’m not going to pry into your personal affairs.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “...As long as you don’t avoid  _ mandatory _ procedures again.”

“Oh,” Purple replies softly. 

When they say nothing else, Brown continues. “As I was saying, we’ll be gathering all the basics: temperature, heart rate, blood pressure. I’ll check your reflexes. You’ll do a full body scan—“ if he hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have noticed Purple’s fists clench down on the legs of their uniform at that— “And I’ll also collect some observational data.”

He gives them a minute to process that while he clips the freshly printed check up forms to the clipboard and fishes a pen out of one of his jumpsuit’s deep pockets. “If you’ll take off your helmet, I can start with checking your eyes.”

They nod jerkily and comply. Thankfully. Brown was afraid this whole procedure was gonna be like pulling teeth—

And then Purple looks up at him with dark eyes framed by thick lashes and Brown is so, _so_ grateful for the mirrored visor obscuring his expression because he’s pretty sure he’s about to combust. What the fuck, who fucking  _authorized_ that face? For his own health he has to look away, so he makes a beeline for his tools—all hanging on the wall, organized by function—and disguises his internal gay panic with careful scrutiny. Once he’s calmed himself down enough to paste his orderly doctor persona back onto his face, he picks out his ophthalmoscope, flips up his visor, and gets on with the exam.

Over the next hour or so Brown collects all the information he needs to get a good idea of Purple’s normal physical health. There are only a few mishaps, and they have to take a break after Purple—with an obviously anxious movement—somehow manages to slip and fall off the body scanner (luckily they aren’t injured), but otherwise the tests go about as smoothly as can be expected with a first-time astronaut.

Finally, Brown fills out the last of his observations and sets down his pen. “Alright, we’re done. You can go now.” Purple hops down off the cot, slams their helmet back on, and makes their way to the door.

But just as Brown gets back to work, they pipe up again. “Thanks.”

He turns back to look at them with a soft sigh. Honestly, this person... “For what?”

“For, uhm...” Purple is standing near the exit, fiddling with their fingers and looking down nervously. “For not prying. About why I didn’t...” They let out a breath and shift to clench their fingers in their sleeves. “It’s personal. So thanks.”

Brown eyes them for a moment, and his mind can’t help but wander—conjuring up those eyes, imagining what expression that face might be making right now. He coughs into his fist to cover his momentary lapse in attention and says, “Don’t mention it.” It’s not as if he needed to ask by the end anyway; he put it together pretty quickly throughout the exam. Turning back to his terminal, he deftly sets up a subfolder for Purple’s results to go into once the printer is finished scanning them. “Now get out of my medbay. I have to process your results.” Despite his bluntness the words have no bite to them, and he catches a startled huff of laughter behind him before Purple scampers off to do... whatever it is they do during the day.

After he’s sure they’re out of earshot, he sets a timer and gives himself one full minute to scream his inarticulate gay panic out into a pillow. That and one cup of coffee later, the terminal dings with a “file upload complete” notification. He drops the new files into Purple’s subfolder and types up one last observation in the notes section: 

_ ‘ Afraid of needles and large medical equipment. For best response from patient, provide alternate forms of treatment/examination.’  _

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was done in this fandom. I _said I was done_ and then _this thing wrote itself in like an hour_ so fucking. take this fluffy pb&j i guess (╯ಠ益ಠ) ╯✨💖✨🌸🧚🧚✨🌸💖
> 
> pls review if you can! Even if it’s just emojis or button mash or quoting ur favorite part, feedback is so appreciated 💖

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Connections and Correlations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26788780) by [Silvermoonphantom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvermoonphantom/pseuds/Silvermoonphantom)




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